


Is love a tender thing?

by orphan_account



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: 5 Things, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Pining, Spock/Uhura background relationship, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-07
Updated: 2015-08-13
Packaged: 2018-04-03 07:29:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4092379
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The 5 agonies you feel when your heart aches for another, plus one moment which makes it worth it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It's 10am and he's in her arms

Swallow. Pour another drink. Repeat until the pain is gone. (It's never gone).

The scotch burns like a flame down his throat. Maybe it will burn away his feelings, set those butterflies in his stomach alight until only ash is left. 

He's getting maudlin. Or possibly crazy. Bones would say he's crazy, falling for a pointy eared robot. His chest feels like it's getting crushed, like the love he shouldn't feel is too much for his battered heart to handle. Maybe this is the universe's cruel idea of a joke. Jim had spent so many years scorning the idea of love, thinking that giving so much of yourself to another was stupid. Now his heart longed for someone who would never love him. Wouldn't be interested in knowing everything that Jim wanted to share with him. Spock wouldn't ever want to share himself with Jim.

Swallow. Pour. Repeat.

His position onboard the ship makes it worse. He wishes he could forbid Spock from going on dangerous away missions, keep him safe on the ship. It would be his fault if Spock died, his crew is his responsibility. Their deaths are his responsibility. Thinking of Spock's death on his conscience makes his stomach churn, almost relieved his feelings aren't returned. 

Jim can't imagine giving up his captaincy though. Never again seeing the stars on a distant planet, meeting new species, having Spock by his side as he walks on foreign ground...

The captain also has the largest quarters on the ship. It feels like the loneliest one. Separate from the others. Far away from Bones in sickbay. Scotty in Engineering. Spock in Uhura's quarters. Touching. Kissing. Words of affection shared between them in the darkness. 

Swallow. Pour. Repeat.

He can imagine it as clearly as though he was witnessing it. The room dark, except from the starlight shinning through. Sheets damp and twisted beneath them. Uhura getting pressed down into the mattress by that lithe body, such a beautiful contrast of dark and pale. That face, usually looking as though it was carved from marble, contorting in pleasure. The bittersweet melody of their whispered love confessions and breathy noises. Uhura's fingers brushing against his face, only she gets the privilege of seeing his love and desire aimed at her. 

He wonders what it would be like to be in her position, to be loved in the way he loved her. Spock's eyes drawn to him when he entered the room. Those lips pressing against his own, the sweetest caress he could imagine. Being held in his arms, safe and warm and loved. Knowing he wasn't wasting his love on someone who would never feel the same. 

The half-empty glass blurs and he distantly realizes he's crying. He ignores the hot splash of tears and the tightness of his throat suppressing sobs. He continues to fantasize of loving and being loved in return. The simple feeling of being with another person, cuddling together on a bed. Walking hand in hand as stars shine down on them. Vulcan poetry being traced on his bare skin. Fingers brushing as they played chess. Seeing love in his eyes when he looks at Jim. 

The pain consumes him quicker now, face hot and wet. Throat tight. Heart aching. His mind playing his most desired fantasies on repeat. 

There's no more scotch. 

 

 


	2. There's an arrow in your stomach and you're glad it's not in her's

There's pain and relief in his stomach and a taste of blood in his mouth. 

An arrow is also lodged in his abdomen, but that's not important. Uhura is leaning over him, wide eyes and blanch faced. His ears are ringing like bells and her words are muted, as if coming from a far away place he can't reach. He can see the streak of dirt on her face from where she had hit the ground. He had pushed her. He had taken the arrow meant for her. Spock would be relieved. Jim doesn't know where he is. All he can see is the sky, Uhura's face, and his own body. 

There's so much blood. 

Spock appears, his jaw is tight and his face looks pallid. He should be happy, Uhura is safe. Jim made sure of it. Why was he unhappy. Red blood splatters across that beautiful face when Jim opens his mouth to ask, he chokes on the words. He continues to choke, grasping for air through the blood in his mouth. Things are getting white and distorted. He feels weird, fuzzy and sore. Jim wonders if this is what dying feels like. He looks at Spock's face and thinks about how there are worse ways to go. 

He's on the Enterprise now. He's getting lifted. Familiar faces shifting in and out of focus. Scotty at the transporter controls, face queasy. Bones, shouting orders and forcing clinical detachment, even with his best friend bleeding out on the gurney. Nurse Chapel is smiling at him, whispering soothing words as the hypo is injected into his neck. He notices that her hair is different before he fades away. Bones's voice is the last thing he hears. 

 

Death shouldn't be this painful, Jim thinks. He isn't dead, though. He's in Sickbay. Antiseptic smell and white surroundings suffocates his senses. Relief comes in the form of Nyota Uhura. Sitting at his bedside, bent over with her head on the bed, floral perfume wafting up his nose. Her head lifts when he shuffles around, stretching out the kinks in his neck. She looks tired, worried, and relieved. Jim can't imagine why she would be here. 

"You feeling okay?" her voice is raspy, her lips look parched. Her clothes are rumpled and her hair is coming out of it's tie. She's been here for a while then. Spock wouldn't like that. He would probably call her illogical for sitting by an unconscious man's bed. 

"I'm great," the lie falls out his mouth the same way alcohol burns down his throat, easy and familiar. She looks doubtful, he can't blame her. He'd be skeptical if their roles were reversed. 

"You shouldn't have done it," she chided, smiling weakly, "I can jump out the way myself."

"I know."

"Why did you do it then?"

_I'm in love with your boyfriend._

"I didn't want you getting hurt."

_Because it would hurt him, and he's lost enough already._

"You're part of my crew. And my friend." Although Jim wouldn't exactly consider himself a good friend, he may not have much experience with friendship but he's fairly certain 'don't fall in love with their significant other' is a pretty important rule. 

She looks at him sharply, like he's a subspace anomaly she's trying to decode. Like she could hear the unsaid words. Jim tries not to look guilty. Uhura is his friend, and that had been part of the reason for saving her. Spock's feelings had just been his first priority. 

Uhura opens her mouth, and the door swooshes open. Bones bustling in, tricorder at the ready before the door even closes. Jim tries not to look relieved. He suspects he's failed at it but Uhura can't point it out as Bones is currently shooing her from the room. The familiar grumbling thickens his accent. 

"You're damn lucky, kid."

 Jim doesn't feel particularly lucky.

 


	3. King Pawn to e4 and my heart is longing for more

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm going on holiday soon for 11 days, and won't be updating until July. Sorry!

Jim sometimes thought that the worst part of unrequited love wasn't that you're feelings weren't reciprocated, it was keeping it a secret. 

Like right now for instance, he and Spock were sitting in his quarters playing chess. A perfectly friendly, platonic game of chess, and Jim was having thoughts he shouldn't be having. About kissing his First Officer, of what shade of green he'd flush as Jim pushed him down on the bed, straddling his lap and such like. Very bad thoughts for a commanding officer to have, for a friend to have. 

Also, very distracting thoughts to have when he should be focusing on how to win the game. Not that he had much chance of winning, Jim was willing to admit, glancing at the board. 

"Captain," Spock spoke, that smooth voice pulling Jim out of his fantasies. He'd been wondering if the tip of Spock's ears were as sensitive as his fingers. Maybe his dry spell had been effecting him worse than he realized. This was getting out of hand if he was sexualizing Spock's ears. 

"We're off duty, Spock," Jim reminded him, hoping Spock wasn't going to mention that it took him a moment too long to reply. His gut twisted uncomfortably at the thought, he could just imagine the conversation that would lead to. 

_Captain, why did it take you so long to reply?_

_Sorry, Spock, I was too busy day dreaming about pushing you onto my bed and riding you into the sunset. So, anything new going on in the Science department?_

Jim could already picture the sexual harassment lawsuit that would follow. He was a horrible person. 

"Jim," Spock corrected, his brows were furrowed, he looked almost concerned, "you do not appear to be well."

"I'm fine."  _I'm just a pervert who needs a cold shower. Or to be marooned on Delta Vega again._

"Perhaps you should visit Dr. McCoy, it has not been long since you were released from Sickbay," Spock countered. Jim winced, Spock had become an even worse mother hen than Bones after Jim's little adventure with the arrow. Well, Jim called it an adventure. Bones called it 'a damn reckless move that your lucky didn't kill you'. Same difference, really. 

"All the more reason to avoid him," Jim dismissed, shifting his pawn forward, "Bones worries too much."

"An arrow pierced your stomach," Spock reminded him pointlessly. Jim wasn't likely to forget the pain or the forced liquid diet that followed. He never knew there was so many types of broth, he hadn't wanted to know either. At least Bones finally allowed him more solids, even if he was still forced into light duties, also known as paperwork. Chess games with Spock were the only thing keeping him sane at this point. 

"I told you I'm fine," Jim snapped, beginning to feel irritated. A feeling that intensified when he saw that Spock was beating him again, he needed to stop being so distracted by his First Officer. He was straight, and had a girlfriend. Speaking of - "Don't you have plans with Uhura tonight?"

Spock stiffened, his eyes flickering to the clock on Jim's wall which displayed that it was 21:12 Ship Time. Uhura would have just gotten off Beta shift a few minutes ago, and was probably wondering where her boyfriend was. Her usually punctual boyfriend, who was now standing.

"I apologize, Captain," he said curtly, looking weirdly tense, "it appears that I was distracted." He didn't even wait for a response before he turned and left, hands clasped tightly behind his back. 

_Yeah, that was kind of obvious,_ Jim thought, pushing down the fluttery feeling in his stomach, it didn't matter that it was him that Spock was distracted by. It was a purely professional concern. Didn't mean a damn thing. 

If only someone could tell that to the traitorous butterflies in his stomach. 


	4. Your lips are sealed to hold in the blood from your broken heart

Talking. Drinking. Laughter. Smiles. 

Jim had grown accustom to the political game played at negotiations. A warm smile with the right amount of flirtation kept people interested in what you had to offer. Casual touches and implications of where those touches could go opened a lot of doors, metaphorically and literally. Laughing at the jokes, and complimenting their achievements, and nodding along as they talked on and on. 

It was exhausting. 

Thankfully, the celebration was coming to an end. The natives and crew members had went off to their assigned rooms, leaving the society leaders and half of Jim's bridge team behind. They were all clustered around a larger table. Jim sat with the Queen on one side and Spock on the other. 

The Queen, Kala, smiled at Jim, her skin turning a warm, rosy hue. Spock, of course, had been fascinated by the natives and their skin's ability to change colour corresponding with their mood and hormone changes. Jim also remembered that red was the colour of sexual desire, which probably made dating a lot easier. Although, the natives weren't a monogamous race, which explained why Kala's wife didn't look bothered by the obvious bedroom eyes her wife was sending Jim. 

"Captain," Kala said, "One of our guest quarters in the Palace has been arranged for you and Mr Spock, if you desire." There was a glint of amusement in her eyes, which rippled across her skin in a flash of emerald green. Jim's face flushed, his heart stuttered in his chest, and he wondered if he was as transparent about his attraction as Kala was. 

"That will not be necessary," Spock cut in coolly. Jim glanced at him, Spock had stood and now had a tired looking Uhura leaning against him, his arm wrapped around her waist with a sense of familiarity that sent a sharp cut of pain to Jim's chest. "I will share a room with the Lieutenant. I'm sure the Captain would value some privacy." 

Jim opened his mouth, but squeezed it shut a moment later with a sharp nod. He didn't particularly care for privacy, but if Spock wanted alone time with Uhura then Jim could deal with it, he was used to sleeping alone on the ship. Same situation, different location. 

Kala looked pleased, if a bit surprised by this. She brushed a hand over her wife's as she rose, her smile definitely more flirty than it had been a moment ago as she turned to Jim. Her white gown hugged her like a well fitted glove, and certainly drew attention to her beauty and power. Her skin was the colour of blood as she looked into Jim's eyes. 

"Then perhaps the Captain would allow me the privilege of escorting him to his quarters?"

Jim glanced at Spock, his face was blank but the subtle clench in his jaw showed his displeasure quite clearly. Jim's hands tightened into fists, Spock didn't have any right to be displeased by Kala's blatant come on. Jim didn't know why Spock would be unhappy by it, Jim wasn't breaking regulation and Kala had started it. He pushed down the thought that maybe Spock was jealous. Spock had Uhura, and Jim needed to stop being so affected by him. 

"It would be my honour, Your Highness."

Silence, a smile, and a bed fit for two. 


	5. Blood is escaping your body, and confessions from your heart

Jim always knew his luck would run out eventually. He figured with the amount of times he's escaped death's clutches, the thing has to have some sort of vendetta against him. It was always so easy to pull off reckless stunts with a devil-may-care attitude when you weren't likely to reach thirty. Even with that thought in mind, Jim wished death hadn't finally sunk it's claws into him on this day. He had reasons to  _live_ now, he had a family and friends, a proper life to live that wasn't just cheap shots and sex. 

He had a purpose. 

At least he managed to save Spock, it made his death mean something at least. Spock would take command of the Enterprise _,_ marry Uhura, and spawn 2.5 part-Vulcan babies that could sing like angels and recite mathematical theories. Maybe he'd even name one after Jim, as a reminder of the guy who sacrificed himself for Spock. Jim tried to imagine a kid with dark skin and pointed ears called Jim and choked on his laughter, or maybe that was his blood. 

Jim pressed his shaking hand to the knife wound in his gut, it certainly wasn't the most painful way to go, that honor went to the radiation poisoning. And he wasn't alone, not like he'd been on the last days of Tarsus. He was luckier than most people in ways to die, bleeding out in the arms of the person he loved because they couldn't contact the ship.  

It still hurt like a bitch, though.

"Hey," Jim croaked, feeling a cooler hand sliding over his own, he twisted his head to the side to see Spock. Jim was currently resting back against his chest, Spock's legs bracketing him as he leaned against the tree. The xenophobic natives had left after Jim had been stabbed, they had been aiming for Spock, something about impurity of his blood. Jim hadn't really got time to ask between the shouting and stabbing.

Spock ignored him, he was still attempting to communicate with the ship. Jim couldn't hear what was going on very clearly, everything seemed to be a massive blur of pain and confusion. Spock was his focal point. He doubted he'd ever see those features without clarity, they were practically imprinted in his brain. The curve of his ear, the downward twist of his lip, the only display of displeasure you'd ever see, and those warm brown eyes. Jim could get lost in them forever. 

"The Enterprise is attempting to scan for our location," Spock said, snapping the communicator shut, "The energy field surrounding us is hindering them, however." 

"Alright," Jim murmured, it wasn't that important to him, he wasn't going to survive much longer anyway. He felt cold and sore, he was basically laying in a pool of his own blood, and his chest was starting to hurt as his heart attempted to beat more non-existent blood around his veins. 

"You will be receiving medical care soon," Spock added.

Jim laughed at that, even with his wheezing lungs and aching heart, he managed a weak laugh. He remembered what his mother had told him once, how she knew she loved his father when he managed to make her laugh even when she felt like crying.  _Well, Mom,_ Jim thought, _s_ _eems I found my guy too late, he'd already found someone else._

Laughing was not a good idea, Jim started to choke, blood splattering on his lips, lungs gasping fruitlessly for air. His heart was starting to stutter to a stop, tears streamed down his face as his brain reminded him that this is how it felt before he died in the radiation chamber. Except there wasn't any of Khan's blood to bring him back now. He was going to die on this planet, wrapped in Spock's arms, unable to see him clearly. He twisted his head to the side, already knowing what he wanted his last words to be, and managing to gasp them out. 

"I love you."


	6. Revelations

_I love you._

_I_   _l_ _ove you._

_Iloveyou._

Jim really wished there was some sort of universally agreed arrangement that meant when you admitted something embarrassing while dying your doctor wouldn't save your life. Therefore forcing you to deal with the fact your First Officer now knows you're in love with him. Not that Jim was dealing with it, of course, he had now mastered the skill of feigning unconsciousness whenever a half-Vulcan happened to be near him. Sadly, Nyota Uhura was not so easily deterred by fake snoring and closed eyes. 

"Get up," Uhura shook his shoulder, "I know you're faking it, Gaila told me you don't snore."

And, of course, she was also the former roommate of Jim's ex-girlfriend. Jim wondered briefly how his sleeping habits came up in a conversation. 

"Why are you avoiding Spock?" she demanded once his eyes had opened, no point of feigning unconsciousness if the person knew you were faking it. 

"I'm not avoiding Spock," Jim half-lied, he wasn't technically, he couldn't actually avoid him while being forced to stay in bed. That, of course, didn't stop him from avoiding the inevitable conversation that would occur if Spock knew he was awake and listening. 

Uhura looked unimpressed, "Uh huh, and I suppose him mentioning that you're conveniently asleep every time he visits is a lie then?"

Jim winced, "What did he tell you?"

"He didn't have to tell me anything," she shook her head, sitting on the side of his bed, "I, uh, heard what you said to him."

Jim stared at her, face burning, "How?!"

"You had already beamed up to the transporter room when you said it, we all heard your confession."

"Oh, God." How had he not noticed that, no wonder Bones had been so nice with the hypo jabbing and good painkillers. 

"Don't worry, it was just me, Chapel, McCoy, and Scotty."

"Funnily enough, that isn't comforting, Lieutenant."

Uhura pressed her lips together, looking conflicted for a moment. Jim suddenly found his hand getting squeezed by her much smaller grip, she glanced around then leaned closer, almost conspiratorially.  

"Just talk to Spock, ok?" she insisted, "He really needs to tell you something."

Jim blinked at her, "Are you asking me to ask out your boyfriend."

"He's not my boyfriend anymore."

"Since when? And how?"

"6 months ago." So before the mission started, Jim thought. "And because he didn't deem it important to mention the little tidbit about him being engaged." 

"Spock's engaged," Jim said incredulously. He was pretty sure that's the kind of thing you mention before entering another relationship, although they could do it differently on Vulcan. 

"Was," Uhura corrected, she didn't seem that upset, only a little irritated, "He got the bond removed at his fiance's request. Said how it was unlikely she would accept him as her husband at the wedding ceremony - although, he didn't mention when that was going to happen - and he didn't mention it because he said it was 'unimportant' and he 'didn't want to upset me'" she scoffed. 

"Wait, why would he stay with her if he didn't think she would accept him?"

"He didn't tell me, just said how Vulcan males require a bondmate for some reason." 

"That's nice and vague."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry."

"So am I."

 

* * *

 

 

"Uhura said I should talk to you," Jim said as Spock entered the room, "Apparently you have something to tell me?"

He was calm, totally chill, there was no one more cool than he was right now. He was the Captain of the Federation's flagship, he was not going to get nervous talking to his First Officer. And if he happened to be sweating, it was only because Bones piled him with too many blankets. 

"I do, Jim," Spock confirmed.  _Oh s_ _hit,_ that couldn't be good. Spock rarely called him Jim without repeated prompting. Jim was suddenly grateful for the lack of heart monitor. The damn stuttering traitor would betray him. 

Spock sat in the visitor's seat, hands placed on his knees, back ramrod straight. He was looking at Jim with an odd, almost contemplative, look on his face. Jim had seen that look before, when he visited Spock down in the science labs for a check up, and he'd find him bent over a microscope. That expression on his face, utterly focused and full of wonder as he made discoveries about a new life form or galaxy of stars. Like there was nothing that could drag him away from it. 

"However, I have a query to ask you first," Spock said.

"I've told you before, you don't need to ask permission to ask me a question," Jim sighed. 

"Did you mean what you told me before you lost consciousness after our most recent mission?"

Jim exhaled, trust Spock to get right to the point. 

"Yes, I did."

"And did you mean you love me in a romantic, platonic, or familial manner?"

Jim opened his mouth, feeling a bit hopeless. It wasn't an easy question to answer. Spock, along with Bones, was one of the few he considered to be like family to him, or what he assumed a family would be like. He didn't have much experience in that department either. And it was obvious that Spock was one of his closest friends. And that Jim desired him romantically. Jim wondered if he could answer 'all of the above'. 

"When I was speaking, I meant romantically," Jim said carefully, "but I do care about you in a platonic and familial manner." 

Spock nodded, standing as he stepped closer to Jim's bedside. 

"I, of course, share the sentiment." 

"Oh."

"I believe there should be kissing now."

Jim nodded, cause he was totally up for kissing, especially if it was Spock he was kissing. Spock, who loved him in a romantic manner. Spock, who was now leaning down and gently pressing his lips to Jim's, fingers reaching out to brush against the back of Jim's hands.

Jim reached up with his free hand, curling it around Spock's neck as their heads tilted, searching for a better angle. Jim had heard about the whole 'sparks and fireworks' when you kissed thing, but he figured it was romance novel and Valentine's Day card bullshit spewed to the masses to gain money from daydreaming teens who'd never kissed anyone before. He was very wrong he discovered, as Spock's lips moved against his own, his searching fingers brushing against Jim's, one of the most intimate touches Jim had ever received. 

Spock let out a quiet gasp as Jim shifted his hand so that he was searching Spock's hand with his own fingers, running the tips over the bumps and dips of Spock's fingers. Nails gently scratching over Spock's knuckles. Spock pressed him deeper into the pillow with a half-strangled sound, like he couldn't restrain it despite a lifetime of learning control. It didn't even feel as though they were kissing anymore, it was although they were merely allowing their love and pleasure to bleed out and into the other. Through their lips and fingers, writing their desire out on each other's skin. 

And Jim wanted that, he wanted Spock touching him all over. Fingers pressing and digging into flesh, wandering hands discovering the secrets of their partner's body. Never letting go, always touching and being touched. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's over. I'm finally free from the responsibility of writing this trash fic which kept pestering me with ideas. Thank you for reading it.


End file.
